Snore
by Joseph Garner
Summary: Three months following the events of the movie, Hiccup wakes suddenly in the night. Give it a shot, despite the tags.


Astrid was possessed of numerous qualities that were neither lady-like, nor demure; a fact that, unsurprisingly, did little to shock Hiccup; One raised in an environment of snow and blood and hardship, where the expectation of a 'thriving' life necessitated violence, and a 'deep talk' was what was shared while inebriated and coated in the drying entrails of a fallen foe, was not usually aware that qualities which could be considered 'lady-like,' or 'demure,' existed.

Hiccup, however, still found that he was not quite prepared for one of her more 'Viking-like' tendencies:

She snored.

Loudly.

Now, Hiccup had spent a lifetime becoming accustomed to the grating sounds of shearing wood his father produced and, whenever he spent a night at the forge, the grinding, crunching noises of stone Gobber made and, most recently, the occasional, whispered snorts of Toothless, but those atrocities were always subdued by either having to pass through at least two walls of thick oak or the pillow he wrapped tightly about his head.

He never had the unfortunate opportunity to be awoken by the sound mere inches from his ear.

Jerking upright, Hiccup confusedly eyed his room for the source, while his heart beat a staccato inside of him. What had torn him so quickly from his slumber was how reminiscent the noise was of the shredding shriek of the Great Green Death's wings; a screech that still lurked in the shadows of his subconscious, tangled with his most primal fears. Finding that the monstrous creature had not derived a means of resurrecting itself and squeezing its bloated body into his bedchamber more than three months after its cataclysmic demise, Hiccup slowly gleaned the true origins of the sound; the mop of tangled, golden locks on the pillow adjacent his. Trading his indignation and heart-wrenching terror for bemusement, Hiccup allowed himself the smallest of his awkward smiles and a quiet, choked laugh; despite how, in recent months, he managed to slowly begin pulling forth the tiniest drops of both some mysterious sensitivity and gentle introspection from his beloved, she still reminded him in the simplest of ways how she was, at heart, the quintessential Viking.

Allowing himself another shaky breath, Hiccup slowly pulled himself upright, eyes adjusting the darkness of the room; the embers of his brazier had dulled in the night and Toothless was conspicuously absent, denying its refreshment, leaving the loft-like room noticeably cooler than usual. Always having been sensitive to the frigid climate of Berk due to his slight frame, Hiccup was not surprised to have already found goosebumps traveling across his shoulders from being free of his blanket for less than a minute, but, in lieu of retreating back into the warm confines of his covers, he settled his back against the chilled headboard and rested his gaze on his bedfellow.

She was turned away from him and his movement had dislodged the blanket from her shoulder, revealing the sloped curve of her side, exposing all that rested above the small of her back. How often, years prior, he had imagined this very sight; yet, as with all his dreams of his previous life, he could have neither foreseen, nor hoped for the awe inspired by what realities he now enjoyed.

He had never been given the opportunity to simply watch her and, as such, he wasted not a moment in memorizing every detail, every hidden, supposed 'imperfection'; The light dusting of freckles that touched her cheeks did not do much to hint at the explosion of the light dots across her shoulders, nor could the fairness of her exposed skin prepare him for the shock of alabaster hidden underneath her armor.

His stomach still tightened in disbelief at the very sight of her; it was not but a few hours after she had quietly, yet resolutely decided to stay with him for the night, for the very first time.

He could feel the tremor in his chest as his heart picked up its frantic pace once again, in reliving the memory. Though, yes, he had grown to expect the axe-swinging inner Viking of his Astrid, there was nothing that could have reminded more of what tenderness lay in her than how she had joined with him; her movements were possessed of a timidity in how she had approached, settling quietly with him as he sat in so similar position as the one in which he now rested. Yet, despite her timorous advance, there was a certain unreserved strength in her gaze as she unabashedly searched his eyes. That was the root of her Viking-hood, judging and strong, even at her most intimate, her most exposed. If in him there had been an ounce of reservation, a moment's hesitation, she would have found him wanting and the moment would have ended. Possibly, they would have ended. But, he had matched her gaze, answered her need with the same assurance, the same confidence that had slowly started to pervade his existence, following the events that began four months prior – He did not lack of the strength that she needed of him to take this step. And so, they were together and settled into their embrace for hours after they had become still.

Hiccup was brought out of his musings by a sudden chill crossing his back – The headboard was still far too cold for his liking and the air was only growing colder. Looking back to his companion, he was filled a sudden sense of dizziness over the immediacy of his compulsion; he wanted to embrace her. Though, he was aware of the absurdity of his reservation, he was pointedly reminded of his lifetime's self-doubt and assurances of inadequacy. Watching her sleep, the ultimate example of Viking-hood, was like viewing a Valkyrie at rest – Surely if he woke her, he would find himself judged wanting and the past four months would dissolve in a wisp of smoke. He would awake with a whole leg, but a halved heart, his life absent by both the brother that had completed him and the woman whom he loved. He –

Turning to fully regard her, Hiccup found in himself the same strength that had possessed him hours prior and silenced the varied doubts with a thought. Steeling his jaw, he slowly eased himself back into the warmth of the sheets and sidled alongside her, before gently sliding his arms about his Vikingess. Pulling her resting form against his thin chest, he was again reminded of her immense physical strength; despite the yielding appearance of smooth skin, comparable to snow in color, her body was possessed of a powerful musculature that, even in rest, seemed taut against his slim frame. Regardless, he nuzzled into her usually braided mass of tangled hair (One of the three things she ever took time to groom, the others being her axe and armor), and waited – Waited for rejection, or damnation or-

Sleepily, without cracking an eye or breaking the rhythm of her coarse snore, Astrid reached up and rested her calloused hand against his own, tugging affectionately on his thumb.

Hiccup had no trouble returning to sleep.


End file.
